


Difference of Five

by LawrenceKinden



Category: Original Work
Genre: Consensual spanking, F/F, Non-Consensual Spanking, Panties, Rain, Running, Spanking, bare bottomed, experimenting, girls, shower
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-23
Updated: 2016-01-23
Packaged: 2018-05-15 18:38:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5795551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LawrenceKinden/pseuds/LawrenceKinden
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[Story Contains Spanking]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Monday

Her small bedroom wasn't typically girly. It was painted boring-off-white and was covered in posters of her favorite books where it wasn't covered in bookshelves. Her stuffed animals occupied pride of place on top of her dresser.

"Well, come here then." I patted my thighs.

She got up on her bed and did a sort of awkward crawl until her tummy was over my knees before lowering herself gingerly. This left her hips firmly on my right thigh, her bottom poking out at the perfect angle. I put my left hand firmly on her back. Through her t-shirt, I could feel her tense, her whole body shivering with anticipation and anxiety. I'm sure she was questioning the wisdom of asking for a spanking, and I was certainly questioning the wisdom of granting her request. She was still only a girl after all, and I was nearly an adult.

I rested my right hand lightly on her bottom. Her neon green running shorts were smooth and cool against my palm. She flinched but didn't object.

"You're sure?" I asked. I think I was more nervous than she was.

She grabbed one of her pillows and buried her face in it, but she nodded.

I swallowed hard and turned my attention back to her backside where my hand still rested. I patted her bottom lightly, getting a feel for the motion, still not entirely certain I wanted to do this. But, of course, I knew that I did. I'd been fascinated by, obsessed with, and desirous of giving a spanking since I was her age, and now the opportunity was literally in my lap. I was thrilled and terrified.

I let my mind tune out everything but the girl on my lap, my hand, and her bottom. I let go of everything else, the anxiety, the excitement, and focused on just this moment in time and space. I raised my hand, not too high, and brought it down. My hand popped on her bottom, more a friendly pat than a punitive slap, but the feel of her firm bottom beneath my hand, the yielding flesh, sent a thrill through me like I had never known. I raised my hand and did it again, producing the same sound, the same feeling. I watched her bottom as it bounced gently. I shifted my gaze to her face, which was no longer buried in the pillow, but resting on its side, her eyes closed, her lips parted faintly. I popped her on the bottom again and watched her take a sudden, short breath, her eyebrows raising slightly.

Goosebumps rippled along my arms.

I swatted her ten times all told before I stopped, my hand again resting on her bottom, my groin tight, my skin tingling.

"Well?" I asked.

She shrugged and wrinkled her nose adorably. "It stung a little, but that wasn't a real spanking."

I smiled; I couldn't help it. "Oh, I thought we were just playing. I didn't realize you wanted a real spanking."

Her eyes snapped open. "I don't mean like, really, really hard, just harder. You know?" I could see the sudden concern in her eyes.

I smiled at her. "You just tell me if you want me stop, okay?"

She nodded.

I raised my hand a little higher and popped her on the bottom again. She gasped and I did too. The sound was louder, her bottom bounced more vigorously. It took us both by surprise.

I had to unclench my teeth before I could say, "Like that?"

She had buried her face in her pillow again. She nodded.

I raised my hand and brought it down and it was less like a pop and more like a smack. The sharp sound filled the small bedroom and she gasped and tensed and squirmed on my lap. I clenched my jaw and breathed hard through my nose, taking it all in: her weight on my lap as she squirmed, the sound of the spanking and the breathing, the sight of her body tensing and relaxing with each swat.

After another ten swats, I stopped again, my hand resting on her bottom. My hand tingled, it felt warm.

"How was that?"

"I... I think I'd like to get up now."

I raised both my hands off her body immediately and she pushed herself up to her knees. Her cheeks were red, but she wasn't crying. She was breathing hard, as was I.

"Are you okay?"

She nodded. "Yes." Her hands went to her backside and rubbed lightly. "That stung."

"It's what you wanted, right?"

She nodded again and smiled at me reassuringly. "Yes. But..."

I waited, but she didn't say anything, so I prompted her. "But what?"

"Tell me about a time you got spanked?"

I laughed. "I've told you all this before. I'm not sure I have any stories you haven't heard."

But she looked at me with that "you know you're going to give in" look she has, so I told her the one about when I was in third grade and went to the elementary school playground on the weekend with some sidewalk chalk and was caught by the principal, who took me to her office, pulled down my shorts, and spanked me before she called my mom.

"I thought schools couldn't spank kids anymore."

I nodded. "But I didn't know that at the time."

"And she... she pulled your shorts down?"

"Yup, spanked me right on my underpanties."

She giggled.

When 4:30 rolled around and her mom got home from work, we were sitting at the dining room table. She was finishing her math and I was proofreading her book report. We said hi to her mom and I declined the invitation to stay for dinner. I bid them both good afternoon and went across the hall to my apartment where my own parents wouldn't be home until late.


	2. Tuesday

We jogged at an easy pace but sweat still stuck my hair to my head and my shirt to my back. Beside me, she loped along with the easy grace of a girl in a growth spurt, her black pony-tail bobbing in rhythm. Her t-shirt too was stuck with sweat.

She looked at me as we rounded the corner to our apartment building. "Race you to the finish!" she shouted, and broke into a sprint.

I sprinted after her. I might have caught her, but I was suddenly entranced by the sight of her from behind.

She hopped up the steps to the apartment front door with a triumphant grin. "You're getting slow," she admonished me.

I shrugged as I fished for the keys in my shorts pocket and let us in. We split in the hallway, she went to her apartment and I to mine where I stripped off my running clothes and took a hot shower. I toweled off and dressed in jeans and a t-shirt before heading over to her apartment. She was already on the couch, cuddling in a large, terry-cloth robe.

"You ready for homework?" I asked her.

She shook her head and my heart began to beat rapidly.

"Do I need to spank you to change your mind?" When I'd said it yesterday, I'd been kidding. Now I was hopeful.

She nodded, her smile shy. So I held my hand out to her and she took it and I led her to her bedroom with its bookshelves and posters of favorite titles, and I sat on her well-made bed. I still held her hand, but I didn't pull her to me. I looked at her, her small smile, her dark, up-tilted eyes, her button of a nose.

"Are you sure?" I asked.

She withdrew her hand from mine and went to her closet door where she slipped out of her robe and hung it up neatly. When she did so, she revealed she was wearing only panties under her t-shirt, a pale green pair with a little lace at the cuffs. My breath caught as she turned around, her head down so her hair hid her face.

It took several moments before I remembered to breathe.

"Well," I said, my voice a little whispery, "come here then."

She came and got up on the bed and crawled over my lap and I regretted wearing jeans. She immediately buried her face in a pillow. I put my left hand on her back to feel her hurried breathing, and my right on her bottom, only those cute panties between me and her. I started with just a few popping spanks, the sound making us both jump.

"Too hard?" I asked.

She shook her head. So I popped her again, noting the bounce of her bottom and the smoothness of the panties and the small gasp of breath. I spanked in that fashion several times in a row; I lost count. When she started to squirm and squeak, I stopped, resting my hand on her bottom, and rubbed gently, relishing the feel of her panties on my stinging palm.

"How was that?"

She nodded and unburied her face to say, "It stings. Is my butt red?"

I looked at her bottom. Her panties did their job and obscured my view. "I don't know," I said. I put my finger just into the waistband of her panties, my heart thudding so hard I thought the neighbors must have heard it. But she put her hands suddenly over her bottom, and I removed my fingers from that privileged position.

She scrambled to her knees and I moved my hands.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I shouldn't have said that."

I shook my head. "You have nothing to be sorry for. Whenever you want me to stop, all you have to do is say so."

"I... I'm ready to do homework now."

We did homework until around 4:00 then watched television until her mother got home. Her mother wore a stern expression as she told me she'd gotten a call from the principal today, that my little friend had been caught drawing naughty pictures and was grounded until the end of the week. We could have our run and do homework, but she was to be in bed by eight and not to have computer, television, or phone privileges. She was restricted to her bedroom. Her mother asked if I was comfortable enforcing the grounding and I said I was. Then I declined the invitation to stay for dinner and went across the hall to my own apartment.


	3. Wednesday

It was raining after school, so we didn't go on our run. Our homework was done in under half an hour, so we had over an hour with nothing to do but stare out the window at the rain. Fortunately, we both loved to read. Her grounding meant she was supposed to be in her bedroom, so we sat on her bed together, reading quietly while the rain beat at the window, the quiet sound of turning pages a lulling sensation.

"What kind of pictures?" I asked suddenly.

She blushed and pressed herself against me a little harder, taking comfort in my presence I hoped. "Spanking pictures," she whispered.

"Oh."

"Would you tell me about a time you got spanked?" she asked. And she sounded so pitiful, I couldn't possibly tell her no.

So I told her about the time my babysitter decided she wanted to have her boyfriend over and wanted me out of the way, so as soon as my parents had gone out to dinner, she'd pulled down my pants and underpants and spanked me. Then she told me I was grounded and not to come out of my room. I was so shocked I did what she told me only to sneak out later and catch her and her boyfriend making out.

"That was hardly fair," she said.

I nodded. "Most spankings aren't fair."

"The spankings you give me are fair," she said.

"I'm glad you see it that way. I'd feel pretty awful if you didn't." After several moments of silence, I said, "Do you want a spanking today?"

Without my prompting, she crawled across my lap and pulled over a pillow to rest her head. Then she reached back and flipped her skirt up over her bottom to show off her bubblegum-pink panties. I patted her bottom fondly before falling into the familiar rhythm of the popping spanks that filled the room with their sound and drew gasps from us both.

But after only five spanks or so, she said, "Stop... wait I..."

I pulled my hands off her, expecting her to get up.

"I... I want you to pull my panties down."

"Are you sure? That's awfully... close."

She nodded, hiding her face. I hesitated. I wanted to, I wanted to very badly, but she was so young, and I no longer was. My own experiences with spanking had all been incredibly negative except I was so fascinated that I often sought it. I hadn't had a careful, mature friend to give me careful, mature spankings. What if I crossed the line?

"Please?" she said.

I gave in.

I put my fingers into the waistband and slowly pulled her pink panties down, like peeling a banana to reveal the fruit beneath. Her bottom was smooth and delicately curved, her skin a creamy sort of brown. As I pulled her panties down, they rolled so that they got stuck just at the crease between bottom and thigh. I used my left hand to lift her at the hip so that I could pull her panties down to her knees. She lifted herself a bit to help.

The sight of her naked bottom made me feel tight all over. I spent several moments just looking at her, my throat going tight, my breathing becoming labored. I tried to again close out all else, to focus only on her bottom and my hand.

Because her bottom was now bared, I spanked more gently, pats more than spanks. But after a few of these, she looked over her shoulder at me, frowning. "You're supposed to be spanking me."

So I spanked her. The smacking sound and her little grunts filled the room and filled my mind so that when I stopped, a minute or so later, I could still hear them. Her bottom was pale pink under my hand and she was still squirming.

"Are you all right?"

She nodded but didn't look at me.

"Do you want me to stop?"

She nodded again.

"Do you want to get up?"

She shook her head.

So I just rubbed her bottom gently. After a few minutes, she was still but for her slow, rhythmic breathing, and I realized she was asleep. I pulled her skirt down over her bottom and slid from under her. Because it seemed they'd be uncomfortable where they were, I slid her panties down her legs and put them in the dirty clothes hamper. Then I covered her with the blanket and left.

Her mother came home at the regular time. I told her her daughter had behaved well and fallen asleep after homework, then bid her good night and went across the hall.


	4. Thursday

I had cancelled our usual run because I had a big paper due the next day, so I sat at the dining room table clacking away on my laptop while she sat on the couch reading, her homework done. But after a while, I heard the television come one.

"Hey," I said, a little more harshly than I meant to. "You're still grounded. Turn that off."

"Make me," she taunted.

I sighed. "I'm sorry, I really don't have time to play today."

She pouted at me, but turned the television off.

Not ten minutes later, she was bouncing around the kitchen, fixing herself a snack. She wasn't directly bugging me, but it was still irritating. I watched her, my eyes going inevitably to her bottom, clad in a pair of tight jeans that showed off the soft curve of her bottom. I kept rubbing my right palm against my thigh, fighting the urge to take her to her bedroom and spank her bare bottom. When she finally left the kitchen I took a deep breath and tried to focus on my paper.

The television turned on again.

I stood angrily and spun around to glare at her. She, her mouth full of bologna and cheddar sandwich, gave me an impudent grin. But my glare must have conveyed my full irritation, because her grin faded and she swallowed her bite of sandwich while turning off the television.

"Sorry," she mumbled.

Feeling like a heel, I sat next to her on the couch. "Look, you really don't want me to spank you today. I am in a crabby mood and we'd probably both end up walking away from it with tears. Understand?"

She nodded.

That settled, I got back to my paper. For twenty blessed minutes, she behaved herself.

"I'm bored. Can I please watch TV?"

"No," I snapped.

"Please?"

"No, now leave me alone."

"Please, please, please—"

On the third whiny "please" I stood and turned to find her kneeling on the couch, bouncing up and down. She read my expression perfectly and sped down the hallway from me.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry," she cried as I pursued her into her bedroom.

There I grabbed her around the waist, sat on her bed and pulled her over my lap. She squirmed and cried, but I trapped her legs between mine and slapped her tight-jean-clad bottom thrice in quick succession.

"Now, I said, are you going to behave?"

"No!" she shouted, looking at me over her shoulder, her eyes red-rimmed, her hair mussed.

I felt a moment of panic, knowing that I was about to cross that line I'd been so careful with all week. Then I grabbed the waist of her jeans and panties all in one and jerked them down her slim hips.

"Ouch!" she screeched. "That hurt!"

"It's supposed to hurt," said, my face flush with anger, "I'm going to give a spanking. A real spanking." 

But the look she gave me, the fear on her face, made me stop cold, my hand raised to shoulder height. Her expression shifted from afraid to disappointed to afraid again.

"This is what you wanted?" I guessed my voice hoarse.

She bit her lip but didn't answer.

"Fine then," I said. I spanked her. I didn't start with any gentle pats or room-filling pops, I went full on into punishment mode. When I'd first started babysitting her, her mother had given me permission to spank her, a titillating permission I had never intended to administer, but now here I was, pinning this cute little girl down and spanking her so that her bottom reddened and raised, so that she squealed and cried and kicked and squirmed, and deep down I liked it, and I cried.

When her mom came home at 4:30, I was red-eyed, staring at a paper I was never going to finish on time. Her daughter was curled up on the couch staring through a book. We were both obviously a wreck. She asked what had happened, and I told her it'd been a bad day all around. She invited me to dinner and I accepted. I couldn't face my cold, empty apartment.

And when she asked her mom if I could stay the night and her mom said yes, I cried all over again. Her mother rubbed my back and fed me hot chocolate.

At a quarter to midnight, when I finally finished, I laid down on the couch, where I usually slept when I stayed over, but just then she came down the hall to the small kitchen. She was clad in a pale blue nighty, her eyes heavy-lidded.

"You're still up," she said.

"I just finished," I replied.

"So, come to bed."

I gestured at the couch, but she shook her head.

"Come with me," she demanded.

So I let her take me by the hand and lead me down the short hallway to her room. There, she pushed me down into her bed where she snuggled up to me on her side, sliding around so that my arm encircled her shoulders.


	5. Friday

Friday was the night I usually stayed over at her place because my parents often went out of town for the weekend. Not that they had noticed I'd spent last night. But I bit my tongue and shook my head at the thought. I'd learned long ago that it was easier just to ignore their negligence rather than dwell on it.

I focused instead on the rhythm of the run: the timed breathing, the smooth impact of feet on sidewalk, the thumping of my heart in my throat. I suddenly realized that the way I felt when running, especially running with her, was surprisingly similar to when I spanked her.

It was grey above us. It'd been grey all day. We were a block and a half away when it opened up, dumping rain on us so suddenly we were soaked within moments. When we got to our building, I let us in and we spent a few astonished moments dripping and shivering in the foyer before heading up to her apartment.

My bag was already in her apartment; I'd dropped it off there this morning as usual. We dripped all through the kitchen and TV room to the small bathroom off the bedroom hall.

I cleared my throat and apologized. "Perhaps you could change in your room while I change in here?" I tossed her a towel.

She grinned at me, impudent. "You've seen my bare butt. Why shouldn't I see yours?"

I bit my lip.

"I'm not afraid," she said.

"It wouldn't be appropriate," I replied. "You're just..."

"You're not eighteen yet," she interrupted. "I'm nearly thirteen." She put her hands on her hips and glared at me.

I continued to hesitate. She began to undress.

"Fine," she said. "I'm going to change here. You can go change in my room if it makes you feel better." 

I watched her peel her wet clothes off until she was wearing only a bright red pair of panties and a little white bra. I watched her inexpertly unclip the bra to reveal budding breasts with wide, dark nipples that hardly needed it. She tugged down her panties to reveal a few dark curls on her smooth sex. I realized I was clenching my jaw and my fists and forced myself to relax. I was shivering and freezing. She turned the shower on hot.

"Relax," she said. "I trust you. Don't you trust me?"

"I spanked you yesterday," I said. "I spanked you hard."

"You gave me exactly what I wanted. Now take your clothes off and get in the shower before you freeze to death."

After the shower, during which nothing happened, I dressed in green and blue plaid pajama bottoms and a faded black t-shirt. She put on a nightie that barely fell past her bottom and midnight blue panties covered in bright yellow stars.

The rainstorm had turned to sleet. We cuddled in her room, reading quietly, without the weight of homework to burden us.

After a while, she said, "Aren't you going to ask me if I need a spanking?"

I felt my breath catch and my crotch tighten and my hand begin to tingle. Without a word, she wiggled herself over my lap and I spanked her gently.


End file.
